In the Night Season
by Spirit in Exile
Summary: Severus Snape cannot sleep, haunted by the loss of the one he loved and by all the lives he took as a Death Eater. On his solitary midnight walks he wrestles with what Dumbledore demands of him and examines the state of his soul. NOT slash!
1. Chapter 1

_But now they that are younger than I have me in derision, whose fathers I would have disdained to have set with the dogs of my flock… They were children of fools, yea, children of base men: they were viler than the earth. And now am I their song, yea, I am their byword._

_They abhor me, they flee far from me, and spare not to spit in my face. Because he hath loosed my cord, and afflicted me, they have also let loose the bridle before me. Upon my right hand rise the youth; they push away my feet, and they raise up against me the ways of their destruction. They mar my path, they set forward my calamity, they have no helper. They came upon me as a wide breaking in of waters: in the desolation they rolled themselves upon me._

_Terrors are turned upon me: they pursue my soul as the wind: and my welfare passeth away as a cloud. And now my soul is poured out upon me; the days of affliction have taken hold upon me. My bones are pierced in me in the night season: and my sinews take no rest. By the great force of my disease is my garment changed: it bindeth me about as the collar of my coat. He hath cast me into the mire, and I am become like dust and ashes._

_When I looked for good, then evil came unto me: and when I waited for light, there came darkness. My bowels boiled, and rested not: the days of affliction prevented me. I went mourning without the sun: I stood up, and I cried in the congregation. I am a brother to dragons, and a companion to owls. My skin is black upon me, and my bones are burned with heat. My harp also is turned to mourning, and my organ into the voice of them that weep._

Job 30: 1-2, 8-19, 26-31

* * *

The wind whipped his black hair about his pale face as he stood on the blasted heath, looking out into the distance. The moon hung in the sky, bathing the forest before him and the castle behind in its cool glow. The light was just enough to cast his lone figure in stark relief against the bare hillside.

Alone was how he found himself most often, and this was how he preferred it. He found solitude to be his best companion--calm, silent, nurturing. And no time was better for solitude than the night. Free from the sun's indecent inclination to expose all things and stir them into motion, the nighttime allowed things to settle into themselves. It soothed his spirit.

"Who's that?" a booming voice erupted from a nearby dwelling, the only structure in sight apart from the castle. The lone walker had a mind not to answer at all.

"Don't tell me it surprises you to see me here..."

"Oh, it's just you, Professor Snape. Out for another midnight walk, eh?"

"Indeed."

"Ah, carry on then."

The sound of a closing door. So much for solitude, and silence.

But he could scarcely complain. The peace he found here was more than he could have ever imagined, or wished for himself, after the life he left behind. It was certainly far more than he deserved. He could have been dead, in Azkaban, or somewhere far more horrible. He shuddered as the morbid possibilities flickered through his mind.

His current life had its indignities, but these were preferable to the indignities he had chosen for himself in the past. A search for dignity had driven some of his worst decisions, and though his pride had hardly given way to humility, he had at least grudgingly accepted that this was his fate. Joyless as it might be, this new life was free of the horror and cruelty he had once known.

He could scarcely look his great benefactor in the eye. This man, one of the most powerful wizards of all time, a man dedicated to standing against evil in the name of the good, knew every last secret of his past. And somehow he still allowed him here. Severus had little respect for any other wizard, dead or alive--or fear--but before Dumbledore he felt as humble as an ant.

Only this man knew him. That he knew him and yet had given him protection and a place to stay mystified Severus daily. This unearned beneficence often filled him with shame, and though it revulsed his pride, he could refuse it no more than a starving, beaten dog could refuse an offer of food from a gentle hand. For this man he felt gratitude, respect--and perhaps even love.

For others, loving Dumbledore was easy, but for Severus, that this man could conjure forth love from his broken spirit was a testament to how powerful a wizard he was. The only other person Severus had ever loved was long dead. And he laid the blame for her death at his own feet.

Whenever the image of her gentle doe eyes entered into his mind, he grew restless, haunted. It was as if his body believed it could walk far enough to get away from her memory. But he knew this was impossible. Even when she would leave him for a while, other memories would flood in to take her place. These were even worse: visions of a hellish life, a killer's life. A life that should damn a man to hell, to a fate worse than death.

His nighttime visitors were never benign. He was forced to relive the horrors of his past again and again. The moon's gentle caress was the only balm that could ease his tortured heart, weary from bearing witness to too much horror. But even the night's peace only reduced the pain; it did not give him rest. Peace was relative for Severus, and he knew it, and felt grateful he could know any at all. Grateful to Dumbledore for his mercies. He could not even dream of a full reprieve.

"Could you not brew a potion to aid you in finding sleep?" he had once asked Severus.

"I have tried. It is of little use. This curse resists even the most profound magic, even the most arcane potions. A soul so frayed is not so easily mended."

"Why do you not ask me for help, Severus?"

"I think you have helped me enough, Headmaster. I dare not ask for any more than what you have given, which is already too much."

"Very well. It is your choice. But you know I am here."

Severus had little doubt that Dumbledore could give him rest. But he could not let himself accept the offer. Even Dumbledore could not remove the cursed memories that haunted Severus. No wizard had that power. And what troubled his dreams, should dreams be removed from his sleep, would just trouble him more when conscious, as he knew from his past dalliance with the world's oldest potions. No, his insomnia was not some isolated disorder of digestion that a glass of milk could cure. His soul begged for a deeper solution than a mere sleeping draft or spell for dreamless sleep.

He entered into the forest. It was always good to feel the leaves crunching underneath his feet. The sound was reassuring for some reason, though the forest teemed with danger. Unafraid of death as he was, and as much as he sometimes longed for it, he knew chances were slim that death would come to meet him here, in the forest, and he did not come to court it. His business here was different.

He always walked to the same clearing. Once there, he pulled out a small red velvet bag. The golden grains inside it shimmered in the moonlight as he poured them into his hand. The first doe of the night emerged from the shadows and approached, her nose quivering tentatively as she studied him. Satisfied, she came closer and began to eat from his hand. When finished, she drew herself to her full regal stature and gazed upon him. After pausing for a moment, she gently butted her head against his chest before turning and walking away, disappearing into the night as silently as she had come.

Though he had done this countless times, it never failed to stir him. Some nights like this one, when his heart was especially unguarded, tears came. He wept not just for the love he had lost, but for all she represented, the innocence he could never know and the life he would never have. This was the one place he felt fully human. Here, the gentlest and most timid creatures would walk up to him, unafraid, and take the grain he offered. With other humans, it was not so easy.

After the last doe had left--he always knew when the last had come--he put away the nearly empty bag of grain and began his walk back. His soul had calmed somewhat, and he believed that thanks to the gift the does had given, he would be able to get a few hours of merciful sleep. Real, nourishing sleep. Not just unconsciousness. Their gentle magic would protect his sleep a while.

When he arrived back to his quarters, he knew he had been granted permission by his soul's sentry to rest. The does had convinced his mind's guard to step down its merciless sigil. Granted this reprieve, Severus relaxed into his soft bed and let the night take him.


	2. Chapter 2

Once he had sought simple unconsciousness. He did not even dream of sleep then. It was not the forest he sought in those early days at Hogwarts, but the tavern. The Hog's Head. The place where the events that led to his beloved doe's death had been set into motion.

Severus and the bartender, Aberforth, shared a silent understanding that neither man could have articulated as well as the silence articulated it. Both knew pain and regret and each knew that the other did too. Neither found reason to speak of it. Instead, Aberforth would simply fill Severus's glass. The liquid was thick, black, iridescent, sometimes flashing purple or silver, billowing and storming about the glass like a raging thundercloud. Aberforth would fill the glass again and again until Severus nodded his thanks, paid him, and headed back to Hogwarts.

Severus had made this his ritual for years until one night he was approached by Dumbledore on the way to the tavern.

Dumbledore would often playfully tease Severus about his quirks and weaknesses, but on this occasion he evidenced nothing of his usual mirth.

"Severus, it will not do that one of my professors spends his nights at the Hog's Head."

"Do I not perform my services to you excellently? Do I neglect to teach my students well in Potions? Do I neglect the special tasks you require? What else would you ask of me?"

"That you not spend your nights at the Hog's Head, of course."

"Can I not have this one respite?"

"Is it truly a respite, Severus? A Potions master should know that feeding a sick soul poison will not cure it."

"My sickness has no cure. I know this merely numbs the pain. And if I have enough, I sleep. That is all I ask, for I know it is all I can have."

"You sleep a sleep that grants you no rest, and apply a salve that makes the pain worse. You are far too clever for such basic errors of judgment."

"I am but a broken man, doing what broken men do. I take no pride in it."

"Yes, Severus, you are a man in despair. But I know you do not class yourself with the other desperate souls you find yourself among at the tavern. You do not think your pain is the same as their pain. Perhaps if you did, you would not be in despair."

"What do you mean, Dumbledore?"

"What I mean is that you are not humble in your suffering, and in trying to sound like you are, you are being disingenuous. You are trying to avoid facing me properly."

"I face you now, Dumbledore--"

Dumbledore raised his wand. "Lumos penitus!"

Severus felt an uncomfortable feeling, as if his skeleton were melting, leaving his soft insides exposed to the harsh night wind. His heart began to throb and ache. Tears wet his face.

"No, please, don't do this!"

He fell to his knees. He began to sob. The sudden flood of emotion, numbed and dammed up for years, made him feel as if he would explode.

"You're going to kill me!"

"Oh, don't be so dense, Severus. I am not doing any such thing. All of this that you are feeling, is there all the time. I am just showing it to you. The poison you put in yourself merely calcifies your insides so you don't feel it. And _that_ is what will kill you eventually. Not this. Don't you know this? That what you are doing is killing you?"

Severus looked up at Dumbledore, no longer able to shield his true feelings.

"Yes," he said softly.

"You know this is killing you?"

"Yes."

"And you do not care?"

"I suppose part of me wishes for death, Dumbledore. At times its taste is sweet."

"This is why you come, then? Because slow death is the only antidote you know?"

"You speak it so clearly. The only antidote I know is the oblivion at the bottom of a glass. In my searching, I have found no others."

"But there _are_ others, Severus." Dumbledore gestured for Severus to follow.

Severus did not want to come, but despite its resentments, his heart was fully obedient to Dumbledore. With great regret he turned away from the Hog's Head and toward Hogwarts.

"If I am not to go to the Hog's Head tonight… if I do not have a draft at the castle… I will need to brew a potion--"

"I know, Severus. I will brew one for you. Do not worry."

Severus hung his head. He knew he would start shaking before they arrived back at the castle. And within moments, it had begun. He grew disoriented, and stumbled, the powerful shaking passing through his entire body.

"I am sorry--" The shame he felt vied with the physical pain. He was grateful only Dumbledore could see him in this state, so weak and wretched, so powerless.

Dumbledore startled him by turning around quickly and grabbing him by the shoulders. There was fire in his eyes.

"It is okay, Severus." The look was stern, but the words were gentle. Dumbledore helped him over to a fallen tree beside the path. "Tace!" The quaking stopped. Severus looked weak, drained. Dumbledore helped him back to his feet.

Safely back at Hogwarts, in Dumbledore's office, Severus sat as Dumbledore prepared the potion. The shaking had returned. He hated sitting before his headmaster in this state. He felt completely exposed, weak, a disgusting creature that could command no more than pity from the great wizard he admired, and nothing but hatred from anyone else.

Finally, Dumbledore brought the cup to him. As Severus drank, he grew less pale.

"You go to the Hog's Head seeking oblivion. Why do you just not end it then, Severus? You know the spell. You know many ways to invite death. It was your specialty for years."

These words stung him. "Please, Dumbledore, do not speak of that wretched life I once lived. I cannot bear bringing my past into this room, in my weak state. It is too much!"

"But these thoughts you think you cannot bear, you _can_ bear. You already do. They never leave you."

"You are right, I suppose. My memories are an unending well of misery."

"So why not end this misery?"

"Because I am in your debt and I am not dishonorable enough to stop payment of what I owe."

"Is that all? If I were to release you from your duties, then, your debt, would you seek death?"

"I cannot say whether--"

"Be truthful with me, Severus."

"...Yes. To be truthful, yes."

"The poison my brother serves you at the Hog's Head must be a blessed panacea for you then, for it brings you the oblivion you desire while also keeping you in my service…"

"Yes."

"This is the only way you feel you can live."

"Yes."

"You do not feel you could do my orders without it."

"I could not refuse you, Dumbledore. If you ordered me to stop, then I would have to continue in your service without it. But it would be--"

"Consider it ordered, then. You must stop."

"Please, Dumbledore, show mercy!"

"I am," he said gently.

Severus looked up at him.

"There are many ways to relieve the soul's burdens without poisoning it. Friendship. Love. Laughter."

"None of which I can know, Headmaster. That is my curse. I am bitter because I live in your service without a friend to keep me company, without anyone to help me bear this burden."

"Is this not how you wish it to be?"

"Now, yes. There was a time, however…"

"That time is gone. What of now? Do you not require solitude? Do you not enjoy the silence?"

"I enjoy the silence and the solitude because I am broken to the world. You spoke of laughter; my soul is too broken for laughter. I know I deserve this fate. But this was my fate even before I deserved it. Blackwater is the one elixir that removes the burden for a while. It is the one friend I have found. You are right that it is not a very good friend, I do not admire it, but this lonely beggar does not have the option to choose a better friend."

"Am I not your friend, Severus?"

"Yes, of course, Headmaster, but it is different..."

"Is it? Do not mistake me, Severus. I know it is not easy for you. If I believed your nights at the Hog's Head were the best respite you could find, I would not seek to stop you. But I know this is not the case. Do you trust me?"

"Yes… I do."

"Then trust me in this. Retire to your quarters. Do what comes naturally when the restlessness sets in. You will find your way to something far better in time."

"Yes, Headmaster." He was sick, and afraid, but he knew there was no more debating the matter.

He returned to his quarters, afraid of what would come in the night without the blackwater to ward it off, but somehow he also felt strangely relieved.


	3. Chapter 3

It was strange now, to look back on it. It seemed so unlike him, the nights at the Hog's Head. He was not one to show weakness in public. Not one to give up control. But he had picked up the habit far before he returned to Dumbledore, and it was not one so easily stopped. When another Death Eater introduced it to him in his previous life, it felt like the only thing his life had been missing. It made him harder inside, gave him the strength to do what it took to claim the terrible power he sought, to fulfill the demands of his allegiance to the Dark Lord. Blackwater silenced the million voices screaming in protest inside him.

He had grown more numb and dead inside with each new murder, with each new act of violence and cruelty. Blackwater took away whatever feelings were left, stopping the burning each time his soul was rent anew. It made him more effective. It was little time before he was Voldemort's top soldier, respected by his fellow Death Eaters and feared by all.

"Where is he? Where is your husband? Tell me!" Snape commanded.

"No! Please! I will give you anything you desire!" the young dark-haired woman begged, crying hysterically. "Please--"

"Crucio!"

She screamed, and fell to the floor, where she began to convulse.

"Now will you tell? Do not think I will stop until you tell. You know I show no mercy--"

"Please, Snape, I will give you anything you desire! You can take me! I am yours! I--"

"If I pleased, I could take you without your permission. You know this. I have told you the one thing I need. Crucio!"

Snape had a reputation for ruthlessness. He was never tempted away from his plans by promises of wealth, pleasure, or flesh, though he sometimes took these things just to show he could, and did so without any joy in the act itself. His heart was moved not by opulence, but by pure hatred, for Muggle and wizard alike.

"Crucio! I see we shall be playing at this all day!"

Just then, the front door opened.

"No, don't! Run! Don't come in! Get away!"

Her children could not make sense of their mother's screams and came running in.

"Mother! What is happening?"

"Get out of here, children, _please_! Please, _please_, do as your mother says!"

"No one is going anywhere," Snape hissed. "We shall all play nicely together here until Daddy comes home."

"No! Run, Evangeline, run! Take your brothers and sisters with you! Warn your father!"

The elder girl understood and bolted for the door.

"Avada Kadavra!"

The young girl's body fell to the floor. Death had stopped her heart forever.

"NO!"

"Does anyone else wish to join her? Lady, you best summon your husband if you do not want the others to meet the same fate. My patience is wearing thin."

Defeated, broken, she knew she had no choice. She did the spell to summon him. He appeared.

"Maddy, dear, what is it? What--"

"Turn around and face me."

He turned around and met Snape's dark eyes.

"Your wife has been begging for your life in a rather unseemly way, I'm afraid to tell you. And your daughter might not have had to be killed, had she obeyed me. Now lest I kill them all, I command you to come quietly."

Voldemort had a special hatred for Dearborne, a Muggle-born wizard who had wed a Muggle wife and who had succeeded in several strategic attacks against the Death Eaters. Snape could only imagine what fate awaited him.

Afterward, on Voldemort's orders, he returned to kill the entire family.


	4. Chapter 4

When Dumbledore had first admitted him back to Hogwarts, the other professors had been irate, mutinous.

"Surely you cannot mean to bring this... this... monster among us, Dumbledore!" Transfiguration Professor Minerva McGonagall had protested.

"Of what monster do you speak, Minerva?"

"Don't be coy! Severus Snape! What would you have him teach our students? Perhaps the Killing Curse of which he is such a master?"

"Potions, actually."

"Dumbledore--"

"Minerva. This man came to me at great risk to himself in the effort to save the innocent. People can change, can they not?"

"Yes, but only so much, Headmaster. I hate being so bold with you, as you know I respect you immensely, but this man's reputation precedes him, and I worry for our students..."

"I can only ask you to trust me. And do not worry, he will be promptly fired if he kills a student."

"Headmaster!"

"I mean no offense, Minerva. Please forgive my odd sense of humor."

But behind the humor, Dumbledore knew all too well that Severus Snape's reputation proceeded him: he had been one of Voldemort's top soldiers, a ruthless killer who could cast the most heinous curses without a moment's hesitation.

Dumbledore called a staff meeting during a period when he was keeping Snape hidden in a magically protected part of the castle. He knew that professors who had lost friends, students, or family members to the Death Eaters might neglect their moral contracts to practice only peace and kindness in the halls of Hogwarts should they see Snape passing through its corridors.

"As all of you must have heard by now, I am bringing a new staff member aboard. I hear there are many protests--"

"Surely you understand our protests!" bellowed Alric, the Defense of the Dark Arts professor.

"Of course, Alric, but--"

"If I had the chance, I would not hesitate to kill him!"

"Be careful, you know curses have a tendency to rebound on those who cast them..."

"Well, if that were true Snape would be dead a hundred times over. I would kill him without a flicker of conscience or fear of consequence. It would be an honor to do this act of justice. The only thing that would come back to me is gratitude for doing what others wished to see done."

Dumbledore let the professors' voices rise in a litany of hatred and outrage before he finally, suddenly, bellowed,

"ENOUGH!!!"

The room grew quiet.

"I see I have not taught you well at all, and I am displeased with myself."

"What do you mean? Of course you've taught us, you've taught us what to stand for, and what to stand against--"

"I've taught you to practice understanding and tolerance rather than hatred, forgiveness rather than vengeance. I've taught you to reserve your judgment."

"Yes, but for acts this extreme--"

"Silence! Be silent and let me speak. I have given you your turn. I know you know this man as a monster. I can hardly fault you for hating him. But I know what lies deep within him, and it is not the heart of a killer, but the heart of a broken man. He is riddled with regret and anguish so deep that anything you could to to him would be a mercy to him. He is here to do penance. His life is his to work out, and all I ask is that you give him room to do so. You do not need to like him, or be his friend. But you must not attack or harm him. You must treat him with professional respect. That is all I ask. Is there anyone who cannot do this much?"

"I am not sure I can," Minerva spoke. "I respect you deeply, Headmaster, but I do not know how I can keep from reacting to this man's presence. Do you not care for our own suffering? To see him? To see him walking free among us, after all he did?"

"I do care for your suffering, Minerva.. But I do not think it is such a bad thing that we must be sometimes reminded of what we have suffered. And I believe the best response is not cruelty, but compassion. Again, I tell you this man is broken by what he is done. He does not need you to break him. But if that is not enough, let me put it this way: this man is in my care and my service, he is immensely valuable to me, and anyone who harms him faces harsh consequences from me. I am giving you a week to prepare for his official welcome. And that is all. I tire of this subject."

Severus Snape's formal introduction was a strained and tense affair. A few professors made stilted attempts at cordiality, but could hardly cloak their venemous hatred. Not even their respect for Dumbledore stayed their desire to do Snape harm--it was only Dumbledore's strict command that stopped them. The students, not knowing anything of his past, could only tell that their new professor was a cold and harsh man. Dumbledore had expressly forbidden professors from telling students about Snape's history, but this did not stop the only faculty member who had ever been a Death Eater from quickly becoming one of Hogwarts' least popular professors.


	5. Chapter 5

Of all the Hogwarts faculty and staff, it was only Hagrid who ever greeted Severus warmly. This did not surprise other staff, for Hagrid was gentle to a fault. But one disgruntled professor finally approached Hagrid one day and said, "How can you be so kind to him? So cheerful? Do you not know what he has done?"

"Of course I do, Alric," said Hagrid. "It's my job to care for killers."

"You can't possibly think it's the same for him as for a beast that knows no better!"

"You underestimate non-humans. No matter, most do… I agree that his kind of killin' is different, but I trust Dumbledore's wiser than me and Dumbledore don't have a problem with him, so I don't. I see that Dumbledore cares for him as I do my beasts, despite the fear and hate others feel for them. Like them, he's not so bad when you just take him as he is."

"You mean, when you ignore all that he did, as if it didn't happen."

"It's not mine to judge. I just know that Dumbledore has a purpose for him. And he ain't a happy man. That's plain to anyone who looks. I feel sorry for him. I can only imagine what it would feel like to have done all that to your own soul. It's a brave man to come back to face Dumbledore after what he done."

"Oh yes, so brave to come running with his tail between his legs to safety. Please."

"Dumbledore says dyin' would be a mercy to him."

"Oh please, I don't buy Dumbledore's fairy-story."

"I don't understand what you're comin' to me for. I ain't nothin' to do with it."

"No, but you greet him like you do any other professor. Like all that he did doesn't matter to you. It offends me, and I just don't understand it."

"It ain't a matter of understandin'. I'd be the first to say I don't understand 'im. He's an odd sort. But I tell you what, Dumbledore thinks highly of that man. He sees fit to treat 'im with respect. So I figure if Dumbledore can respect him, why can't I? Dumbledore could look down at any of us, but he don't. He won't even look down on a man who done what Snape done. So I try to look at 'im how Dumbledore must look at 'im. Ain't that much to understand then. He's just a man, and you treat another man with kindness. That's all. Simple, really."

"Oh, you really are impossible, Hagrid. Why not think for yourself? Dumbledore's not perfect. He might have some horribly misguided reason he's letting this killer among us. Maybe he's even sympathetic to the Death Eaters, and has been in with them all along…"

"Don't talk about Dumbledore like that. It's not funny."

"I can speak as I please, I am a free man, Dumbledore would defend my being able to speak my mind. And I'm not trying to be funny, some of us have really started to think that the man is quite mad, or foolish, or just generally lacking in good judgment. Why--"

"DON'T TALK ABOUT DUMBLEDORE LIKE THAT!"

Alric froze. Hagrid's placid demeanor had finally given way.

"HOW DARE YOU TALK LIKE THAT ABOUT THE MAN WHO GIVES YOU A JOB! A HOME! WHO PROTECTS THE WHOLE WIZARDING WORLD!"

Alric realized he was not going to convert Hagrid to his cause as Hagrid chased him out of his hut.


	6. Chapter 6

Severus was out on the heath on one of his midnight walks when a voice erupted from behind him.

"Severus Snape, turn around and face me!"

He turned around to find himself facing Minerva McGonagall, her eyes full of fire.

"Yes, Minerva?"

"Don't play coy with me! You know what this is about!"

"Actually, I do not…"

"Is it that you killed too many? Do you not remember her?"

"Remember who?"

Minerva's ire was building. Her wand was extended, her wand hand trembling.

"Felicia! Felicia McFogle! My dear friend and cousin, who you murdered!"

"Of course I remember…" He cringed at the memory.

"I ought to… You have no idea what I would like to do to you! If only Dumbledore didn't protect you, I'd have done it the instant I first saw you here."

"Minerva, that was a long time ago. I was a different person. I regret it," he said in a soft, broken voice.

"People do not change so much, Snape! I know what is in your heart! You are not sorry!"

"I am more sorry than you can know."

"Don't try to placate me with your civil lies. You have never tried to make right by anyone, you have just hidden yourself away here, in the little hole Dumbledore gave you to crawl into."

Severus felt the sting of her words. "What is it you want of me?"

Minerva paused. Her tone of voice changed suddenly. "Tell me what it was like for her, Snape."

"What do you mean?" What little color there was in Severus's face drained from it.

"How did she die? Did she suffer? I must know!"

"You know not what you ask… let it be, Minerva, it cannot--"

"TELL ME!"

Severus paused. He did not know how to respond.

"It was quick and painless," he finally lied, his face the total blank of the master Occlumens.

"DON'T LIE TO ME! I know you are lying. Tell me the truth!"

"Please, Minerva, you do not know what you ask. Do not ask this of me--"

Suddenly, it dawned on Severus. He was trying to protect himself, not Minerva. And he realized that he could no longer be so selfish. He owed this penance to her. To Felicia. To Dumbledore.

"I know perfectly well what I ask--"

"She suffered terribly," Severus said quietly.

"What?"

"Her death was a horrible display of the Death Eaters' cruelty… Of my cruelty."

"What do you mean? What did you do?" Her voice was full of pain.

Severus lowered himself to his knees before her, averting his eyes.

"I cast the Cruciatus curse. Multiple times."

"No, no, tell me it isn't true!"

"I wish I could, Minerva. She met a horrible fate that night."

"But her death was quick then? Tell me, at least, that she was finally shown mercy…"

"I am afraid not. She was given to Fenrir, who rent her asunder. It was a horrible death."

"Oh no, it is much worse than I thought…" she grew quiet. Suddenly, she turned and pointed her wand at Snape again. "You are scum, you deserve so much more than I could ever do to you--"

"You are right, Minerva. It is your right. I give myself to you, to do as you please with me."

He set aside his wand and looked up at her with a look that chilled Minerva's soul. She saw in his eyes that he believed this was what she wanted, to be given a chance to do violence to him.

"Dumbledore does not have to know. I am a good Occlumens. I look ragged from my sleepless nights as it is. He will just think I had an especially bad night."

Minerva was stunned. Her wand trembled in her hand.

"I have no recourse. You are free to do as you like."

"I cannot…."

"Go on, make me suffer! Give me what I deserve. I did it, Minerva, I was the one who made her suffer. I watched her writhe in agony! I listened to her plead for her life, then plead for a merciful death! I gave her neither! How can you not wish me to suffer for this? Take your vengeance!"

Minerva's entire body quaked with rage and grief. Part of her wanted terribly to cast the Cruciatus Curse. To hurt him. But she could not. Finally, with a pained cry, she turned and fled.

Severus collapsed forward onto his hands. Tears were streaming down his face. That poor woman. She had died one of the crueler deaths he had witnessed. She had been Minerva's friend. And Minerva had to look at him every day. He felt sick, and wished he could indeed crawl into a hole where no one would ever have to look at him again.


	7. Chapter 7

Severus walked into Dumbledore's office. He had been called to appear there in an urgent message from the headmaster. Though fraught with shame, he felt proud to have done what Dumbledore had always asked of him--offer himself up to others--and expected praise.

"What were you thinking, Severus?" Dumbledore bellowed as soon as the professor entered the room. "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?"

"What do you mean, Headmaster?" Severus was thrown off guard.

"What was that scene with Minerva? What evils were you trying to coax from her?"

"Minerva had a right to her vengeance, so I offered myself up to her, as I thought you would want me to do--"

"You thought I would condone such behavior?"

"I… don't understand, Dumbledore. I thought I did the right thing--"

"The right thing? THE RIGHT THING? You would dare tempt an unsullied soul to cast an Unforgivable Curse? What evil would you spread through my faculty?"

"I did not think--"

"Of course you did not think! Of course…!" Dumbledore trailed off. His demeanor changed.

"Of course," he said softly. "Of course. You were using your own logic. You do not realize… Severus, you must understand… you must understand that your intentions may have been good, but you put another person's soul at risk. This is not acceptable. Minerva's soul would have been irreparably torn had she done to you what you asked her to do, what you prodded her to do. You must understand that most people have not crossed that barrier, and if they cross it, there is always a cost to them."

His eyes pierced right through Severus.

"I know," Severus said quietly.

"Of course you do."

"Each time I would cast such spells, another part of my soul would blacken and die."

"Yes, Severus. How could you think I would applaud you for having others blacken theirs?"

Something turned in Severus's heart. Dumbledore asked so much of him, to give of himself to others, to try to keep them from making the choices he did, but who had helped him? Who had saved him? No one had commanded his father to stop beating him, or his mother to care. No one had commanded the bullies not to torment him as a student. No one had kept him from uttering the words that forever alienated from him the one woman who had ever loved him. Why did he owe to others what no one had ever given him?

"You protect them so dearly! But where were you when I needed protecting? You abandoned me to my fate, and now that I struggle with such futility to overcome it, you chide me! How am I to know what to do when others ask of me to show my humanity? Do they not know I am but a blasted tree? Why did you let me get to this state! Why did you let me drift so far away?"

"Severus," Dumbledore said gently, "were it in my power, I would not have allowed it. I can only show my students the right way, I cannot make them take it."

"But how could I ever have made a better decision? My soul was distorted before I even entered Hogwarts. Yes, I was too young for you to know me when my father beat my innocence out of me, while my mother did nothing to stop him. But you did allow your other star pupils to do things to me that hardened my heart further."

"Who'll pray for the killer's sake?" Dumbledore mumbled absently, as if to himself.

"What?"

"Severus--you cannot know how much I regret the things that happened to you. Why do you think I give you a place here? Some events are set into motion by such ancient cycles of human cruelty that even if I knew exactly when and where they were to occur, I could not stop them. For even the most powerful wizards, the world does not bend to our will and become exactly how we want it. I rue that my capacity to interfere in events is so limited. I do what I can."

Severus was struck to find Dumbledore issuing what seemed an apology to him. He felt ashamed to have provoked such a response from the one man who had helped him. A man who owed no one any apologies.

"Headmaster, it was not my intention to--I did not mean--of course what happened to me is not your fault. It is just that… it is hard, I still feel so much rage, and I will never be what you wish me to be, though it would please me if I could be…"

"Severus, you are safe here."

Severus was struck. He did not understand why Dumbledore had said this, and yet something inside of him loosened upon hearing it. Tears threatened, though Severus fought them.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I am not going to exile you for being imperfect. I wish I did not have to agree with you that your soul is crooked and misshapen, but it is true. It will never produce straight lines, and I know this. But that only matters so much--at its core, it is good. That is what matters."

"Surely you cannot believe I am 'good,' Headmaster. It was not some demon that possessed me all those years. It was me, it was _my_ heart that was fulfilled by my cruelty. And others here, they see it, and wish to cast out the evil from amongst their midst. I cannot blame them."

"What evil would they be casting out? Certainly, your demeanor leaves much to be desired, but I see no evil that you bring to the castle."

"Were it so easy to cut myself off from my past…"

"No, you are forever tied to your past--this is a link even the greatest wizard cannot sever, as you well know. But people can change. Your heart lost its taste for cruelty. Perhaps you still have a taste for sharp words… but now you could no more inflict bodily harm--even upon your most despised peer--than you could enjoy a picnic with your students."

"I am not so sure, Dumbledore. Perhaps you trust in me too much."

"Let us test my theory, then. I command you go out to the Forbidden Forest tonight, and kill."

"Kill? Surely you jest, Headmaster!"

"I ask not that you kill another person, but one of the creatures of the forest."

"Which creature? For what purpose? I do not understand--"

"You need not understand. Just go, and see."

"You really wish me to do this? This is not a joke?"

"No, Severus. It is an express command, and a serious one."

"Is it you want me to remember what killing feels like? Because I still remember…"

"Severus, now is not a time for questions. Please just do as I command. I will explain later, when you return to me with the body of the creature you have killed."


	8. Chapter 8

That night, Severus went to the forest. Kill a creature. Did Dumbledore have one particular creature in mind? Or just any creature? He could not understand why Dumbledore wanted him to do this. Did Dumbledore really think it would be difficult for him, to kill a creature in the forest, he who had numbed his soul with so many killings? He could kill with a lazy flick of his wand and not even wince. It had been so long--it was strange now, to recall that part of himself.

A rabbit appeared. Severus raised his wand, ready to dispatch the hapless creature with a quick Killing Curse. He would show Dumbledore how clueless he was about his nature. The rabbit wrinkled its nose at him. "Avada--" He expected the rabbit to flee at the first syllable, but it did not. It just sat there placidly. Should it not fear him? He raised his wand again. "Avada--" But he could not do it. This was absurd. Even Hagrid could kill a rabbit for his dinner. And he who had destroyed thirty-nine human lives could not? But he had lost his nerve.

He went deeper into the forest. Perhaps it was because the creature was so plainly innocent… As if this thought had conjured it, a Grim, a wolf-like creature that was a relentless killer and a living embodiment of the worst omen, appeared in the distance.

To kill such a creature anyone could justify. The beast heard him take out his wand--its ears were so sensitive--and its chilling yellow eyes met Severus's. It growled gently. It began to trot toward him, and then broke into a full run as it bore down on him, fangs fully exposed, horrible, hungry sounds erupting from its throat. Kill it! Kill it! Severus's mind begged.

But he was frozen. He could not even raise his wand. He could not kill this beast closing in on him so quickly, a beast people used to award wizards for killing with parades... This creature that was going to kill him first if he did not kill it. Maybe this was what Dumbledore wanted? To finally give him mercy, give him death? For he could not stop it.

Severus braced himself but the creature stopped short before lunging. It stood so close to him that he could smell its foul breath. What manner of strangeness was this? Severus wondered. Perhaps an Animagus? For no real Grim would behave like this. Nothing could stay their killing instinct. Maybe Dumbledore had conjured it? Perhaps this was his strange idea of a joke?

The creature slowly closed the short distance between them. It sniffed at Severus, snuffling its wet nose up and down his left arm. Out of pure instinct his every hair was standing on end. But the creature's air of menace was gone. It licked the back of Severus's hand, then trotted back off into the blackness.

Severus was baffled. Surely Dumbledore was pulling the strings behind this strange operation. But why? He was determined to fulfill Dumbledore's command, not only because Dumbledore had made it, but because he wanted Dumbledore to see who he had really let into his castle.

A mouse darted before him. "Avada--" But again the words stuck in his throat. A mouse! Ridiculous! He felt as if he'd been hexed. He knew that the real Snape could kill. Only a Snape under another's control could not do something even small boys could do--kill a small beast. He was irked to find himself so childishly, pitifully impotent. Perhaps this was meant to humiliate, to humble--Dumbledore was always telling him he needed to be more humble--that he could not perform the one service that made a man with a killer's resume valuable to his master.

He found himself in a forest clearing. The moonlight was beautiful here, eerie. "What hex did you place on me, Dumbledore? What point are you trying to make?" he muttered quietly. He fell into a fog of thought until he heard a rustling at the other end of the clearing. He looked up.

A beautiful doe emerged from the woods into the clearing. His breath caught in his throat a moment. What cruel irony. Was this the creature he was meant to kill? The living symbol of the only one he had loved? Well, it was not her. He could not lose his nerve. The night was wearing on and he had to fulfill his command. Now he thought maybe Dumbledore wished to break his heart, to have him kill a doe. But he would prove that he could. He wanted Dumbledore to be sure he knew what kind of man he was sheltering. This was the way to show him. Show that he could ruthlessly kill even the one creature whose sight moved him to tenderness…

He raised his wand. He fixed his face in a mask of hatred. He remembered what it took to kill. This creature would not fool him with her beauty. The time to do what must be done was now. "Avada--" he spoke the word loudly. Any normal doe would have fled, but she merely looked at him. Strangely, not only did she not flee, she began walking toward him.

Severus was transfixed. All thoughts of his task, or what he wanted to prove, left him. This gentle creature, so unafraid of him… the whole forest must be bewitched…

She stopped before him, her face only a few inches from his. He had lost all volition. Some strange, long-hidden part of his mind had taken over. It was as if he were watching himself from a distance as he fell to his knees and threw his arms around the doe's neck. He wept as he had never wept before. The doe did not move, or even flinch. He lost his strength as he continued weeping, and his arms fell from her neck. She bent down low and began licking the salty tears from his face. When the tears finally stopped, she paused to look at him, then turned and walked away. She had made it most of the way across the clearing when she stopped. With her gaze still fixed on Severus, she stood, poised and protective, as he watched a tiny spotted fawn emerge into the moonlight.

Suddenly, he understood. He understood that he was no longer capable of killing. He was no more frightening to these creatures than a lamb. They trusted him, and it did not matter that he did not feel worthy of their trust. He was struck by the strange conclusion that the creatures of the Forbidden Forest even saw him as a protector, were telling him, showing him that this was what he now was. But how this could be? He could not understand. With Dumbledore nearby, with so many good wizards teaching at Hogwarts, the beasts placed their trust in him?


	9. Chapter 9

He returned to Dumbledore's study the next morning. Dumbledore looked at him expectantly.

"Well?"

"What spell did you put on me? On the forest? I have never heard of such bewitchments… truly, you are a powerful wizard, even more powerful than I ever realized."

"Of what do you speak, Severus? What happened?"

"Are you going to toy with me? Is it not clear I did not follow your command?"

"So you did not kill anything?"

"No, I did not, and it must have been you that stopped my wand, stopped the words in my throat. I could not kill anything--not even a mouse. I see now, that you have put a spell on me so that I cannot kill any more. I do not really mind, but I do not understand…"

"I cast no such spell, Severus. Whatever you experienced in the forest was not my doing."

"Then you are to tell me that with no magic, even the most timid creatures were not afraid of me? That even a Grim would not harm me, but licked my hand? It was obviously the work of a powerful charm!"

"Goodness, no. The creatures in that forest are free to be how they are, and to act in accord with their natures. Of course, it is a magic place, and sometimes strange things happen, but these events are not under my control or agency."

"Then how do you explain it? I know you sent me there knowing what would happen. You were trying to prove a point! What was it then? But I think perhaps I understood one thing..."

"What did you understand?"

"…That I am no longer a killer."

"Yes, that is true. I knew you would not be able to kill, and I wanted you to see it. But that is not because of any hex or spell I have placed on you, or the forest, or its creatures."

"What is it then, that prevents me? It is certainly not my gentle nature…"

"You are more gentle than you realize, Severus, but no, you are right. It is not because you lack the temperament to do it. That we have seen."

Severus averted his gaze. "Why then can I not kill any more? Has something changed in me? I thought once a person killed, that person was a killer forever… What am I now?"

"Severus, can you really act as if you do not know the answers to these questions? You would fault a student for being so lazy and dense, so clumsily resistant to the obvious solution."

Severus felt his face redden. "Truly, I feel as foolish now as I felt impotent in the forest. I am lost in confusion."

"That sounds unpleasant."

"Actually… I do not like feeling foolish, but in the forest… it felt… I did not mind it. In my past, I would have been humiliated, furious, that I could not do it. To feel so powerless. Now, I do not mind. I do not mind at all."

Dumbledore smiled.

"You like being powerless, and not even capable of frightening a rabbit or a baby deer?"

"When you put it in such a way, it sounds absurd, but yes, I suppose so."

"Severus… you do not realize what is in you now. I wanted you to go to the forest because it is something that creatures can recognize, and humans cannot. I wanted you to see for yourself."

"I do not understand it, but… I felt like they trusted me, and not just not to harm them, but to protect them."

"Yes."

"But why? There are others much more apt than I to perform heroic acts, or tenderly care for other creatures, and the animals do not respond to them in such a manner."

"Severus, all people have a violent nature. All people have part of them that can be drawn into the darkness. But most people never acknowledge this part of themselves, and so stand at risk to have it brought out by others. You, on the other hand, are thoroughly acquainted with it. And you, despite having tasted its power, have turned your back on it. Have denied it."

A million thoughts were coursing through Severus's mind.

"But I am still full of rage, and spite, and hatred. I am hardly a saint, Dumbledore!"

"Animals do not fear spite or anger that they know will not be acted upon. An animal knows when another has become tame. It is not that the tame animal has lost all contact with the brutal part of its nature, but that the brutality no longer commands the animal. The tame animal follows not its instinct, but other commands."

"What commands would those be?"

"Well, in your case, you follow my command, and one other."

"I try to follow your command… but I could not follow it last night."

"Ah, but you did."

"I do not know how. I did not kill. Perhaps it is good I cannot, but I disobeyed you. I did not bring what you requested. Was it just a trick? Was it just that you wanted me to see?"

"I did want you to see, Severus, but you realize that you have indeed fulfilled my request to bring the body of a dead creature with you, do you not?"

"Well, perhaps if you mean my own wretched carcass…"

"Was that a hint at a sense of humor, Severus?" Dumbledore clapped his hands together mirthfully, his eyes twinkling. "And you are close. Perhaps you are not as confused as you thought."

"What do you mean?"

"You have brought into this room the carcass of your old self… the proof that you are no longer what you once made yourself into."

Severus was stunned into silence. He could not deny these words, that the killer inside him seemed dead.

"But then, what am I now? Who am I now, if not who I was before?"

"The creatures in the forest told you that."

"A… protector?"

"Yes."

"But a protector of what? Of whom?"

"All that will come in time, Severus. In the meantime, you can journey into the forest, and the creatures will teach you more of who, and what, you have become."

"I suppose I will… it was so peaceful there. I felt at ease… more at ease than I have felt in a long time."

"I suspect you slept better last night than you have in a long time."

"I did indeed… it was a mercy."

"And are you not going to ask me about what I said a moment ago, that you follow one other command besides mine?"

"I suppose now that you mention it, I would like to know what you mean…"

Dumbledore smiled.

"Do you tease me?"

"No, it is just that if I told you, you would not believe me, or accept it."

"I don't know, Dumbledore. I cannot anticipate what you mean to say."

"It is the same command I follow. The same command Minerva follows… and Hagrid follows. I dare say you could learn a lot from Hagrid."

"Are you saying I should speak with him?" Severus was a bit revulsed by the idea. Hagrid was hardly a person with whom he imagined having an illuminating conversation.

"Only if you are curious about this matter. I suggest that you go on now, though, as your class will be starting soon."

"Yes… thank you, Headmaster."

Severus left Dumbledore's office full of questions. His students noticed that for the first time, their professor seemed lost in a daydream as he led the class. They were relieved but confused to find that he did not bother with his usual sniping comments.


	10. Chapter 10

Hagrid heard a somewhat timid sounding knock at his door.

"Who is it?" he boomed.

"Professor Snape," came the murmuring reply.

"What on earth--" Hagrid exclaimed as he threw the door open. "What brings you here?"

Severus was caught off guard for a moment. "Headmaster Dumbledore… suggested I come see you."

"On what business? What's the matter?"

"Nothing is the matter. I just wished to speak with you."

"Well, alright, then. Come on in and have yourself a seat. What did you want to speak about?"

Severus suddenly felt silly. He couldn't outright ask what other command Hagrid followed. Nor was he even sure what to make of this question that Dumbledore had planted into his head.

"I had a rather unusual experience in the Forbidden Forest the other night," he finally said.

"Oh? You met Aragog?"

"Aragog? Is he a Grim?"

"Naw, a giant spider."

"Oh… Then I guess not."

"You saw a Grim?"

"Yes, I did."

"Well that's not a good sign."

"It licked my hand."

"It what? Licked your hand? That's no Grim then."

"No, I am certain. The size, the eyes, the smell--"

"Nothin' stops a Grim from killin'. That's a fact."

"I know. This is what was so odd. It came toward me as if it was going to kill me, then stopped. It sniffed me, licked my hand, then ran off, like a tame dog."

"What'd it smell like?"

"Horrible… it smelled like death."

"That's about right then. But that makes no sense."

"It was on par with everything else that happened that night."

"Any giants come runnin' through the woods?"

"I… did not see any..."

"Oh, you'd have seen 'em if it had been giants. So what was it then?"

"The usual animals of the forest… a rabbit, a mouse, a deer. But the strange thing was, none of them were frightened of me. Dumbledore sent me to the forest to kill one of them…"

"Dumbledore _what_?"

"It was a test. He did not really wish me to kill anything... Because I could not, and he knew… This is not making sense, I fear."

"That's all right, Dumbledore doesn't always make sense. Go on."

"This was the strange thing… I have not tried to kill since I came here, and…"

Severus paused. What must Hagrid think of him, speaking so cavalierly, as if killing was a leisure activity he had once enjoyed? It was odd that he would care what this lumbering, oafish behemoth thought of him, and yet he did.

"I am sorry to speak of what I did in my past so cavalierly. Forgive me, I--"

"No worries. I've known a lot of killers, I don't hold it against you," he said cheerfully.

Severus was taken aback. Was Hagrid an idiot? A fool? He did not know; perhaps it was only fools who could stand his company. And yet, somehow, he felt like the stupid one.

"Anyway," Hagrid interrupted his train of thought. "You were sayin' Dumbledore sent you to the forest to kill something, and you couldn't? And the critters weren't scared of you?"

"…Yes. But even more unusually, a doe came to me. It let me…"

How much was he going to tell this man? How much was he going to let him see his vulnerability?

"She."

"What?"

"You mean _she_."

"Oh, yes. I suppose you are right. _She_ let me touch her."

He was surprised to find he wanted to tell Hagrid about the weeping, about the doe licking away his tears, but he couldn't. It was too much. Too personal.

"Did she have a fawn? Did she let you see it?"

"Yes."

"That's unusual! They have to really trust you then. They usually run at the first crack of a twig."

"Much less at someone brandishing a wand to kill them."

"She knew you wouldn't do it."

"How? I had every intention--"

"Animals are smart about these things. Trust me, I know."

"Do they do this with you? Come to you? Act unafraid around you?"

"Yes, they do. I didn't know anyone else here had it but me."

"Had what?"

"You have to have a certain smell to you."

Severus thought: Heaven forbid if I smell like Hagrid…

"A certain smell?"

"They can smell what your intentions are. Which way your heart leans."

"Dumbledore said something similar, but I can guarantee what's in my heart should not have had that sort of effect on any creature. My heart is a bit--"

"Broken?"

"Well… that was not what I was going to say…"

"They have a soft spot for broken-hearted folk, actually."

"Are… you broken-hearted?"

"Ain't this conversation gettin' deep! I'm gonna haveta get out the firewhisky if we're gonna get into all that!"

"I… don't drink firewhisky…"

"How about moonjuice?"

"Not that either."

"Toad's arse, you're picky!"

"I simply do not drink."

"Ah. You stopped?"

"Yes. I mean--"

"Oh, I know all about it. I used to see ya in the Hog's Head."

"Yes… I spent some time there."

"Why no more?"

"Well… I did not want to stop…"

"You're a complicated feller."

"I… suppose so."

"So why did ya stop, if ya didn't want to?"

"Dumbledore commanded me."

"He did? Maybe I should try to cut back, if it ain't somethin' he likes us doin'…"

He eyed the assortment of large bottles strewn about his hut with embarassment.

"Anyway… you're all bothered about the animals bein' nice to ya?"

"I would not say I am bothered by it… I just do not understand it."

"They trust you, it's that simple. There's nothin' to figure out, really."

"But why? Why trust _me_?"

"Ya couldn't kill a one of 'em, could ya?"

"...No."

"Well, there ya go."

"I cannot explain it, Hagrid. This is part of why I came to you… I felt like they saw me as a protector. I have no idea why I thought this. I know they see you that way… but why me?"

"You shouldn't wonder so much about it! You should just feel honored!"

"I suppose I should. I am simply perplexed, as I do not understand what I am to protect, or how, or from what."

"You should go back. They'll show you whatever they need you to know. And, also… did you ever think they might see themselves as _your_ protectors?"

"I did not think of that… it would make sense, however. The way they acted… but what would they be protecting me from? A larger animal?"

"Maybe. But probably not."

"What was it then, if not that?"

"If they like ya, they're more concerned about how other humans treat ya than what other animals do. They don't think much of it if another critter eats ya. That's just how it is in the forest."

"That's… comforting."

"Not really! But anyway, they don't like it when other humans hurt their friends. Not a bit."

"But no other human is hurting me. And I still don't understand why I--"

"You've been hurt before, though, right?"

"Well, yes, but I have done more hurting than anyone has done to me."

"They don't keep a tally. It don't matter to them."

Severus had gained a lot of knowledge since he'd sat down with Hagrid, but somehow he felt more perplexed than when he had come in.

"I still do not--"

"And they think I'm dense! Professor Snape, let me put it to you plain. Animals have a certain sense for people. It's based on their own values, not us humans' values. I'm betting they pick up on the fact that ya got a lot of hurtin' inside ya and that you're cast out from other people, but that ya also know about the whole 'red in tooth and claw' thing… ya gotta have a bit of animal in ya for them to treat ya like one of them. It's complicated. But don't think too much about it, it's obviously taxin' yer brain. Just enjoy it. Goodness knows ya could stand to find some folk who're willin' to be near ya, and you're not doing too well with humans at this rate. But the animals apparently enjoy havin' ya around, just go with that."

Severus was once again perplexed, and did not know whether he had just been insulted or complimented.

"…Thank you, Hagrid. I suppose I should go now."

"I suppose so!"

Severus got up and walked to the door.

"And hey, don't be a stranger!"

"I… won't…"


	11. Chapter 11

Severus had been planning a second trip to the forest when he suddenly fell ill.

He had made himself resistant to illness over the years that he was immersed in the Dark Arts. Each life he took seemed to strengthen the dark aura about him that repelled any entity that came too close. He had not intentionally performed any magical operation to lengthen his life, but his deeply rooted aversion to being weak had unleashed a powerful subconscious force that shielded him from that which would sneak past his defenses.

But something had finally penetrated his magical armor. He had been in his study contemplating an ancient text when the fever descended upon him. His quiet reading came to a halt as he felt his head start to swim and his vision start to blur. It was coming upon him so quickly--what was happening? He stood, but his legs gave out from under him. He fell hard upon his hands, barely holding himself upright. He felt a sensation like a thousand needles piercing his skin. All his strength was not enough to keep him from succumbing to the encapsulating darkness.

He awoke in a bed in the infirmary.

Madam Pomfrey was hovering above him.

"How did I arrive here?"

"Dumbledore found you in your study."

"What is happening to me?"

"You seem to have caught some nasty illness. You've got a fever and your back is covered with boils."

"How…?"

"I am a nurse, not a metaphysician."

Severus could not rid himself of the perception that Pomfrey was smiling.

"How ill have I become?"

"Oh, very ill, I'm afraid." The smile became more apparent.

"Will death come?"

"I'm afraid not." Her eyes flashed unmistakably. "But you will be in dreadful pain."

"Is there not… a cure?"

"Oh, there is. A rather effective one, I might add. But unfortunately I cannot come by it."

"Surely Dumbledore can--"

Madam Pomfrey brought her face very close to Severus's.

"Don't think Dumbledore will come to your rescue here," she hissed.

Severus looked into her eyes, and at that moment, he knew.

"Rose--"

"Don't you dare speak my sister's name!"

"Madam Pomfrey, I--"

"You will not squirm your way out of this, Snape."

"I regret--"

"I care little of what you regret. You are mine now."

Severus grew silent. He knew he had no recourse.

"It was you who made me ill."

"No, it was another who brought you to me."

"Who?"

"It does not matter. I am now charged with your care, and I will do my duties as required."

"Duties?"

"Yes… I am afraid all that is in my power to do is to lance these boils daily."

Severus grew silent. He knew he was now under the command of this woman whose beloved sister he had killed many years ago. His every instinct begged him to fight, but he would not.

"Turn over."

Severus looked up at her. He could not submit to her command, as he was too weak to move.

"I cannot, Madam."

She looked slightly startled for a moment at his gentle address, but regained her composure.

"Then I shall do it."

She forcefully took him by the shoulder and pushed him over onto his side. He tried not to show any weakness, but was betrayed by an animal sound of distress that escaped from his throat.

"If you think that hurt, just wait…"

At the first lance, he surprised himself with a cry of pain.

"Is this what it was like, Snape? Is this how she cried out?"

He could only half-stifle the next sounds of anguish that came from him. But even if his conscience had allowed him to request mercy, he knew better than to plead. She had complete power over him, and her fury was righteous. Rose Pomfrey had been one of his most notorious victims.

Severus's eyes met hers. He did not look away, and it unsettled her.

"Do as you will, Madam Pomfrey," he rasped.


	12. Chapter 12

Minerva heard of Professor Snape's illness and some days later made her way to the infirmary.

She walked in to see Poppy Pomfrey lancing his boils. It was unnerving to hear the pained sounds this coaxed from him. Snape usually never betrayed any pain or emotion.

Poppy looked over to her and smiled.

"Ah, I see you are here to help me assist our sick patient."

Severus looked up at Minerva with a desperate, yet resigned look. A sudden gesture from the nurse caused his eyes to roll back in pain. He whimpered.

"What sort of sickness is this, Poppy?"

"Swamp pox. Quite a dreadful disease."

"But I thought wizards were resistant to it now?"

Something about this scenario was making Minerva uneasy.

"Not if their immunity is hexed and they are immediately exposed." Poppy smiled.

Minerva took Poppy aside.

"You are to say that you… that this is your doing?"

"No. It was Alric. But I cannot say I was upset when he told me he had a gift for me, or when our poor sick professor was delivered into my care."

"And lancing the boils is how it is treated? I thought--"

"Sshhh, dear Minerva. I am doing this for Rose, not Professor Snape."

"Am I not incorrect in thinking that these will become sores as you continue to do this? Didn't many wizards die from infection when lancing swamp pox boils was common practice?"

"You are correct, Minerva. Now are you going to help me with this task or not?"

Minerva was taken aback by her friend's casual cruelty. Poppy had dedicated her life to healing and caring for the ill. And now she was going against the oath of her profession to make this man's suffering greater, to make him sicker and possibly even kill him.

"Felicia would smile knowing you are in the position to make him feel as she did in her final moments. I know that Rose is smiling at me now that I have the upper hand with her torturer."

"Felicia would not--" Minerva stopped herself. She was struck with the sudden realization that she had to stop Poppy. For Poppy's sake, but also for Snape's. This was confusing to her… why should she be horrified by his pain? Did he not deserve it? But she could not let this continue.

"Actually, Poppy… what I would most like is a little time alone with our dear professor."

"Ah, I understand. I leave you to it, then." She smiled, and handed Minerva the burning hot needle she had been using to lance the boils. She made a small bow to her, then left the room.

Severus looked up at her. She could tell he was trying to draw on his powers as an Occlumens to hide his distress, but his illness had weakened him too much. There was pain in his eyes.

He averted his gaze. He would have yet again appealed to her sadism to bring him the punishment his penance required, but he remembered what Dumbledore had said to him.

"I am… in your hands… Minerva. Do… what is best… for your soul."

She remembered the night on the moor, how he had wanted her to hurt him. She could see that he was not fighting what was happening to him. He could have summoned Dumbledore to intervene on his behalf, but he had not. Nor had he called upon his great magical powers to escape, or to overpower Poppy. Perhaps he was too weak… or perhaps he wanted this?

Minerva sat down beside the bed where Poppy had sat, and leaned over close, the needle still in her hand. Severus closed his eyes and turned his head away from her, weakly. He did not see as she laid the needle down on the bedside table and took out her wand.

She began to sing. The melody was strange, haunting. As the melancholic notes of her Gaelic lament rose into the air, filaments of light began to emerge from the end of her wand. She gently touched the wand against his back, moving in time with the music. The glowing filaments settled onto his skin like strands of fine silk and began to weave together.

The redness around the boils and sores began to lessen. Severus was flooded with a sense of relief as the pain abated for the first time in days. He turned his head back toward Minerva and met her eyes.

"What… are you… doing?"

"What Poppy should have been doing."

"I… do not… understand. Rose… Felicia… all the others…"

Minerva looked intently into his eyes, and held the gaze.

"I forgive you, Severus."

Severus was too surprised to resist the tears that welled in his eyes.

He could not speak.

Minerva placed her hand gently upon his forehead. She studied him for a moment, then stood up and walked away.


	13. Chapter 13

"Headmaster?"

"Yes, Minerva?"

Dumbledore gazed upon her with curiosity. The hour was late, and she looked haggard. It was usually another professor who came to him in the midnight hour with a burdened soul and dark circles under his eyes. Not Minerva.

"Can I come in?"

"Of course, of course."

Dumbledore led Minerva into his office and gestured for her to have a seat. Fawkes seemed a bit more interested in Dumbledore's guest than he usually was.

"I meant to come sooner, but I… I was not sure what to do…"

"What is it, dear professor? What troubles you at this hour?"

"I apologize for coming to you so deep into the night, Headmaster. It is Severus--"

Dumbledore was struck, as he had never before heard Minerva refer to the Potions professor by his first name.

"Ah yes, he is quite ill. Madam Pomfrey is tending to him, hopefully he shall recover quickly."

"That is exactly it, Headmaster. I do not know if…"

She trailed off, unsure of how to proceed.

"Minerva, I do not follow."

"I… she… oh, Headmaster, I do not wish to speak ill of my dear friend, but I fear she is torturing Severus, and does not care if he lives or dies. I saw her… she was lancing his boils, making him cry out, not applying any antidote… she let me know it was for Rose… I asked her for a moment alone with him… she let me, thinking I wanted to avenge Felicia this way… and when she left, I did a healing incantation… I convinced her I had rendered him unconscious with pain, to let him alone til morning… I used all my powers to convince her, and it worked, but I fear when she goes to him in the morning, she will see, and undo what I have done, and it will kill him--"

"Slow down, Minerva. You mean to tell me the best healer I have ever known is harming a patient I placed under her care in good faith?"

"I am afraid so, Dumbledore. Her sister… Rose… do you know…?"

"Ah yes, I am aware of the terrible fate of poor Rose Pomfrey."

"So you must understand…"

"Yes… she is consumed with hate, still. But I see that you are not."

Minerva blushed and fell silent.

"I do not know, Headmaster."

"You forgave him."

"Yes… I cannot explain it, Dumbledore. Just seeing him in that state… I had hated him with such passion--with every fiber of my being! Every day I saw him, the hate rose in me… but then it all vanished in a single moment. Not only did I feel a duty to tend to him, I actually…"

She trailed off.

"Yes?" Dumbledore looked at her intently.

"I actually… felt… tenderness for him. I wanted his suffering to cease."

"Yes, Minerva. You saw clearly, with eyes unclouded by hate."

"But why did my hate vanish? It is not as if I am not still troubled by what he did, by Felicia's death. I do not understand it at all."

"What do you think?"

"That… it does not matter any more. No, that is not correct… I do not know how to explain it."

"Perhaps a way to put it would be that Felicia's death still matters, but your anger about it mattered less than your desire to help someone in pain."

"Perhaps so, yes. And it was not just that… but that… he hated the monster who had done it, too. It was why he wanted me to hurt him that night."

"Yes. I am pleased, Minerva. You have learned well from me. I applaud your bravery."

"Bravery?"

"None of what you just did was easy or comfortable."

"I do not feel brave… I feel if I were brave, I would have gone to Poppy first."

"And what would that have accomplished? Your friend lacks the capacity to hear reason at this time."

"Yes, this is true. I tried to think of what I could say to her, but I could think of nothing."

"There is nothing you could have said."

"I fear--"

"Do not worry. I will be speaking to Madam Pomfrey before she has a chance to do any further harm to Professor Snape."

"Oh, Dumbledore, please do not be harsh with her! She was not strong enough to resist the temptation…"

"Do not fear. I shall merely talk with her, as needs must be done, but that will be all. She will remain our Healer, and she will not harm Severus any more."

"Thank you, Headmaster. My soul is so much more at ease now. I was so afraid--"

"Please take away from this, dear lady, knowledge of who you truly are. I shall not forget it, and I hope you shall not either. You are truly worthy of the crest of Gryffindor."

"Thank you, Headmaster."

Minerva left, feeling strangely lighter inside than she had in a long time.


	14. Chapter 14

Madam Pomfrey was summoned to Dumbledore's office as morning broke, before the sun had fully risen.

"What is it, Dumbledore?" she asked, sounding unusually cross. "I must tend to my patients--"

"Tend to your patients? Is that what you call it?"

"What do you mean? What am I supposed to call it?"

"I do not have time for games this morning, Poppy. I know what you have been doing."

"What are you talking about?"

"I am giving you a chance now to tell me, in your own words, before I proceed further."

"Did Snape say anything to you? That coward, I knew--"

"No, Poppy, Professor Snape has said nothing to me. Professor McGonagall, on the other hand..."

"Minerva? She betrayed me?"

"I would not say so, no. I'd say quite the opposite."

"What do you mean?"

"No matter. The matter is what you have been doing. Tell me."

"I was treating Snape's illness in a traditional manner, Dumbledore. I--"

"Please do not lie to me, Poppy. This is the last time I shall ask you to be truthful with me."

Rose suddenly realized that there was no point in speaking anything but the truth.

"I… when Snape was placed in my care, I could think of nothing but Rose, and how she died… oh, how I miss her, Dumbledore!" Poppy began to weep. "How she died was so cruel… and here this man is, walking freely around Hogwarts as if it is all right… he never paid for what he did…" Her quavering voice suddenly became firm. "I had the chance to avenge her, so I took it."

"Thank you for finally being truthful with me, Poppy."

He paused, and gave her a severe look.

"I am not pleased."

"But Dumbledore, how could you expect--"

"Be still, Madam Pomfrey. And listen. It is not your place to determine people's fates. It is not your right to decide who under your care is healed and who is harmed. Your feelings are not supposed to enter into it. I thought you took the oath of your profession seriously--"

"I do, Dumbledore, it is just--"

"I understand that you are angry about what happened to your sister, Poppy. And do not think I do not care, or approve of what Snape did to her. But that is in the past. The distant past. I have told you that he is a different man now. And he has suffered, and continues to suffer for it. He shall never be a happy man. There is pain in him that will never go away. I guarantee you it is not necessary for you to torture him. And when you do so, you become the same as he was."

"How can you say--"

"Did you not delight in his suffering? Enjoy seeing him cry out?"

"If I am to be truthful…"

"You are."

"…I did."

"Then now you understand how it was he did to her what he did. He was consumed with hatred, as you were with him."

"But Dumbledore, she did nothing to him! I hate him because he took away my dear sister, because he made her suffer, for days he held her in captivity, until she was mad from the horror and the pain… no one has ever done anything to deserve such torments, and she did nothing to him! To anyone! Even to Voldemort! She did nothing!"

"Poppy, you are right. Cruelty is never warranted, but it was especially unwarranted in her case."

"So then how can you say it is the same?"

"Because it is the same result, and the same cause. The only difference is that you have a specific hatred for Professor Snape, and he hated all people indiscriminately."

"My hatred for Snape is because he is evil."

"I do not agree."

"How else do you explain what he did?"

"Such thoughts are for a different time, Poppy."

"Why?"

"You are not ready to hear them."

"That is not fair--"

"Listen, dear Madam. I do not blame you for your anger, your hatred. Even for what you did. It is not acceptable to me, and if I were less forgiving, I would have to fire you--"

"_Fire_ me? Surely you must be joking, that you would fire me, while letting that monster work here--"

"He has never betrayed his oath as a professor, or failed to perform his duties. He has not harmed a soul since he came here."

"I cannot believe what I am hearing--you are saying he is better than me? How can you--"

"No, I am saying no such thing. You had a moment of weakness. Severus was consumed by evil for years."

"You just said earlier you do not believe he is evil--"

"I do not. But he did evil things for a long time."

"And all of a sudden, he does not, and you accept him? Would that Rose had been shown such mercy!"

"Indeed, Madam Pomfrey. Indeed. That is it exactly… perhaps it is not too soon; perhaps you do understand."

"What do you mean? What is it you wish me to understand?"

"That it is a virtue to restrain one's hatred, and show mercy."

"Of course, Dumbledore, that is the point!"

"Do you not see that you have betrayed your own convictions?"

"How?"

"You are a Healer who believes in mercy, yet you have tortured and shown cruelty to a creature who needs your mercy."

"There is mercy, but there is also justice! What is the justice in being kind to those who do not deserve it?"

"There are those who do not deserve kindness?"

"Death Eaters…"

"Madam Pomfrey, imagine, if you will, that you are a child. You have done something that you are proud of… made something special. Shown some early aptitude for magic. Like all children, you want your parents to see what you have done. Your mother is delighted. But when you show your father, he becomes enraged. He tells you that you are a freak, that he is disgusted by you, and though you cower and plead, he begins beating you. As he has done many times before, he beats you so badly that you are covered with bruises. After he is done, you lay on your bed, silent tears soaking into your pillow. You know if you leave the room, that you will find your mother drunk, crying, possibly bruised and marked from being beaten herself, and she will hug you and cry, but she will be a million miles away from you, in some place deep inside herself. So you do not bother leaving your room. You are alone, and await the only mercy you know, the oblivion of sleep."

"Oh, Dumbledore, that is horrible. Who would do such a thing to a child? I have never understood people who abuse children. Though Snape, I can see him being that cruel…"

"Poppy, Severus has never harmed a child. The child in the story I just told you _was_ Severus."

She felt a sharp sensation in her heart. She was caught off guard as she imagined Snape as a child, crying out in pain.

"It doesn't excuse it," she said, but her heart was no longer in her words.

"It doesn't. Did you know that when he came to Hogwarts, it was the same? That he was taunted and tortured by his peers, and had no one to speak to about his suffering? That only one person was ever kind to him, but he pushed her away? The suffering you just caused him is but a continuance of what he has known throughout his life."

"How does such a person even live?"

"With great difficulty," Dumbledore said gently.

Madam Pomfrey met Dumbledore's eyes. "How did he end up back here, after…?"

"Something changed his heart. Something of which I cannot speak."

"Why then is he still so unkind? He shames and terrorizes his students, and is aloof and rude to the other staff here. He seems no different a person than I imagine a Death Eater would be."

"He is still in pain. He makes great efforts to hide it from everyone."

"You say that he has been in pain his whole life…"

"Yes."

She paused, and as it always went with Healers, all the details of her patient's life flooded into her mind. Images of loneliness, rage, and helpless suffering flashed before her eyes. She could not stop thinking of a small boy, as helpless as the man now lying in a hospital bed, suffering vicious beatings in silence with no one to soothe him. To live such a life at home, then find it again away from home--such a person must find the whole world a mad, hateful, and senseless place. Her heart was chilled as she thought of the savage enjoyment of violence he must have experienced as a Death Eater, taking his revenge on the entire world. And then she thought again of the boy who had never harmed anyone. The boy who had learned not to cry and to bear his pain alone, in silence, before most children even give up their teddy bears. He probably had not even had a teddy bear. Tears welled in her eyes.

"I… think I understand, Dumbledore."

"Please, then, go… resume your duties."

"Yes, Headmaster. Thank you."


	15. Chapter 15

Snape saw her coming toward him. The first golden light of the day was beautiful, but he was afraid.

She heard the dull whimper at the back of his throat, and now, the scales of hatred fallen from her eyes, she could see how hard he was struggling to hide his pain and fear.

She sat down next to the bed and looked deeply into his eyes. In their black depths, she saw a young boy's pain. Without any attempt to invoke it, that haunting image returned to her mind: a boy frightened of his father, desperately wanting his love. She realized that she had become that father, and the look in Severus's eyes was the same as it had been when he was a boy.

"Please…" his voice was quavering. "Please, no more…" As the illness had progressed, Severus had lost his grip on his usual defenses, and the vulnerable boy he usually kept hidden away had increasingly taken over. His ability to take pain with stoic grace was fading, his mind wavering between feelings of humiliation and hallucinations of being back home with his terrible father bearing down on him. The healing force of Minerva's incantation had soothed the pain, but had further lowered his defenses; an animal terror rose from deep inside of him.

She heard the mix of desperation and defeat in his voice, the child's terror. His eyelids flickered as he fell into another hallucination, whimpering, "Please, Father…"

She surprised herself as she suddenly took his face in her hands. Tears ran down her face.

"You poor man."

He quickly fell out of the hallucination. His eyes were wide with surprise and confusion. He could not move. He realized that his father was not in the room. But Poppy was. There was kindness in her eyes now, but he did not trust the change in her. He waited for the violence to come. He was shaking, and through his fevered psychosis, vague awareness of feelings of humiliation at his weakness broke through.

"Dumbledore came to me…" Poppy started gently.

The image of Dumbledore came into his mind. Things began to make a little more sense and he began to come back into the room, back into his body, back into the present.

"I told Dumbledore nothing…"

"I know. It doesn't matter. You don't have to be afraid. I'm not going to hurt you any more."

"I do not understand…"

"You do not have to understand. All that I ask is that you accept my apology. I am sorry."

The calm voice, the sensible words, the dissolution of the sense of danger in the room brought Severus fully back to his senses. The trembling subsided and he recaptured his ability to speak coherently. The boy vanished away, returning to his usual hidden, protected place.

"I… you were in your right to… how can I accept an apology I don't deserve?"

"Of course you deserve an apology. I hurt you. I made you suffer greatly."

Poppy was relieved to be speaking to the adult professor again, though she had longed to comfort the boy.

"As I deserved."

"No one deserves to be made to suffer like that. I realize this now."

"But what I did…"

"If everyone who harms someone needs to be harmed in the same way, then it will never stop, will it, Severus? You were just doing what was done to you, as I did. You and I are the same, I see it now. I did what you did when what was done to you was done to me."

"I do not follow."

"It does not matter. Please, just say you accept my apology."

"But Madam--"

"Please!"

"I accept your apology. Of course I accept it. But--"

"That is all I need to hear. Please, no more. Just know that within the day, you will be well again and can resume your post… you can resume your duties as I am resuming mine."

He looked up at her, silent, full of a mix of so many feelings it was impossible to translate them into a coherent statement.

"Turn over."

Instinctively, he obeyed her command, and instinctively, fear filled his body again. But instead of the sharp pain of the lance, he felt her hands gently rubbing salve into his wounds. He felt ashamed that this woman whom he had hurt so much was tending to him so kindly. He began to sob.

"What's wrong? Does it hurt?"

"No… no… it is… wonderful," he said between sobs. "I… just… do not deserve… this kindness."

"We all deserve kindness," she said gently, tears coming to her eyes again.


End file.
